Repeated Contact Damage
by Sacrificial Tau
Summary: Not everyone at Hogwarts is perfect, Harry most definitely not, and Draco too. An accident years before Hogwarts leaves Harry with a permanent but fairly mild disability, he's learned to cope with that just fine, he's also learned to deal with everything else. But Umbridge doesn't make matters any easier, that's for sure, Meanwhile, it's getting harder for Draco to control himself.
1. Refuse The Limit Of Myself

**Repeated Contact Damage – Chapter One**

**Another attempted reboot, don't have to have read the original, the story is going to be very similar, just a bit tweaked with some fresh ideas :) Basic premise is that Harry suffered an injury at some point in the years before starting Hogwarts, one that never quite healed properly, and for reasons that will be explained throughout the story, doesn't get it fixed when he does finally arrive at the school. **

**Also featuring an established friendship with Draco, the origins of which will also come to light fairly quickly, this is a creature-fic, and it deals with mental health issues as well.**

_**Squick warning 1. Genderqueer character ahead!**_

**While this is not my first genderqueer character, this is the first that's going to be published, unless I can finish the next chapter of Social Riot Machines before this one is done. Obviously in SRM it's Erik that is genderqueer, but let's not spoil the surprise of who it is in this one. There's only really a few possible suspects right?**

**My fics tend to include the Dursleys being just about bearable, in addition to Severus, usually having Severus in a long term relationship, because fucking hell, he quite obviously needs a good shag and more. Not sure if this one is going to be the same in regards to Sev, I did have discussions with one of my friends about it, and I think we named his partner, but I can't remember what we settled on**

_**Squick warning 2. Kink**_

**It's a Drarry, what are you expecting?**

**I know I've already rambled on quite a lot by this point, and I'd say 90% of anyone that's read this has probably skipped to where the formatting ends, I know I do, but I'd like to say that for me, writing Drarry isn't hard per se, but the way I look at is, if Draco bottoms, you've got the angular elfin whore thing going on, whereas if it's Harry you tend to find Draco portrayed as a voracious sexual predator almost, and Harry having magical sex powers of doom despite it being his first(?) sexual encounter. Someone's gotta do it though. I will be attempting to stay away from the norm as much as possible, as I want the story to be original, however from past experiences I realise that thinking too far out of the box tends to turn readers off. **

**I'm also rather mean to him, I now realise because I've decided on the nature of his accident (this part of the A/N being written as I've hit about ,1,500 words)**

**Thank you to anyone that read my lengthy note :)**

* * *

The sweat on his forehead and the rest of his body chilled Harry to the very bone as he awkwardly kicked the covers off of himself. Ultimately, the undeniable feeling of frost in the air meant that he was beginning to suffer chronic soreness and stiffness in his right leg, not that discomfort was atypical, however in the winter months it became much more pronounced. If it wasn't the pain in his leg that kept him awake, it was the dreams, visions and nightmares of Voldemort's dastardly goings-on, and after seeing that for hours at a time, Harry often felt like the night was the worst part of the day, it was supposed to be a chance for him to rest and recuperate, but no, the dull ache in his leg and the screams of Voldemort's victims was starting to catch up on him. He needed to sleep, needed it so desperately that he was willing to turn to even Snape for help.

Often he sought Madam Pomfrey, but it was the third time that week, and he was pretty sure the matron wouldn't give him any more Dreamless Sleep potion, since it was addictive. On the other hand, Snape might have something less addictive, or some kind of permanent solution to near constant pain and tiredness.

Wearily, he shifted his legs out of bed, and slipped his feet into his Martens, not caring particularly if they were the black pair or not. As it happened, it was the bright red pair, but given the level of exhaustion and sheer annoyance he was feeling at that particular moment, he couldn't care less if he was wearing bright candy apple red boots with his pyjamas.

He hobbled to his crutches, and once he had steadied himself and manoeuvred out of hid bedroom and private common room, sped off, not even checking the Marauder's Map or donning his invisibility cloak, which was a royal pain in the arse to use on crutches anyway. If he was caught, he intended to tell the truth or lie vigorously as to what he was doing, it depended entirely on who caught him. Most of the teachers were quite sympathetic toward him, it was probably largely due to the fact that he refused any and all attempts to heal his leg, even Filch occasionally turned a blind eye when he hobbled past after hours -only very occasionally however. There was one teacher that would never, ever in all of time and space be anything other than a hideous bitch, and that was of course Dolores Umbridge.

He tottered precariously several times on the many flights of stairs on his way to the dungeons, but he barely slowed, and all he had to do was glare at the portrait of Salazar Slytherin for the man to slide out of his frame and rouse the no doubt grumpy Potion's Master.

"I can't help it if there's an extremely pissed off Gryffindor on your doorstep, can I?" Slytherin exclaimed warily as the door opened.

Snape glared at the painting for a few moments, choosing to deal with the easier of his two issues first.

"One look from an angry Gryffindor and you scarper." He stated, a malicious and infuriated note entering his voice. "What kind of door guardian are you?"

Before an answer was given, Snape was gesturing at Harry to move, for which he was sincerely grateful since he felt like he could collapse at any given moment.

He propped his crutches on the sofa and then all but threw himself onto aforementioned sofa. Snape returned -not that Harry had noticed his absense, he was too busy scowling at the coffee table- with two steaming mugs several minutes later, and sighed. Harry had no idea why he was sighing, until he spoke that was.

"Link, of all the things to put on before leaving the bedroom, you pick your fucking hat? You know, not a pair of boxers _at the very least._ Did it not occur to you, that you know, maybe I was dealing with a student, and while there are a few students -most of them teenage girls- that would absolutely relish the chance to oggle a naked man, _most _would _not_."

Well, it would be an injustice not to have a quick look, in Harry's opinion. He looked over his shoulder, and was most definitely not disappointed in the slightest. A tall, slim, blonde and very much naked man was indeed standing in the living room, grinning. The man winked at them both, flicked what Harry assumed was a good-natured V in the direction of Snape and retreated.

"I'd say sorry, but you're one of the few that probably have no problems with the display."

"Cheered me up a bit actually. Listen, I can't fucking deal with it at the moment, the pain is so bad, I swear that fucking Inquisitorial Squad keep bumping into me on purpose, because they always seem to hit my left side so I fall on my right knee. Its not getting a chance for the swelling to go down, and on top of that I can't sleep at all, but I've already had Dreamless Sleep twice this week."

He left the silent plea hanging in the air as Snape considered his words.

"You're probably right, but there's only so many times we can warn students to be careful before Umbridge makes a fuss, you remember the first week don't you? Hold on, I'll go let Link know I'll be gone for a bit, and then I'd like to try something."

Snape entered the room that Link had disappeared into, and Harry could hear them conversing, but couldn't make out the words. Eventually he came back, and Harry could see he was carrying a vial filled with a viscous potion.

"So, we established you can't use ibuprofen gel, so I'd thought we could try a potion that works in a similar way?"

Harry nodded, too tired to speak and once the Professor was suitably positioned, he kicked off his boots and rearranged himself, with his right leg extended over Snape's thighs.

"I'm capable of doing it myself you know," he observed dryly as Snape poured a small amount of the potion onto Harry's bare knee.

The look he received quite clearly said that Snape believed otherwise. In many respects it was absolutely mesmerising, watching the man's fingers gently working the potion into Harry's skin, but it also made him reflect on the reason it was an issue in the first place. He often tried to put it behind him, and for the most part he was successful, however e found that sometimes if he wasn't careful he experienced an intense and bitter resentfulness for the person that had injured him in the first place.

_The agony that ripped through his entire body couldn't be described, not by anyone, not even the most articulate person in the world and most certainly not by Harry. He'd done everything right he swore! He pushed the button, waited for the man to turn green and the beeping to start, and when it did he crossed the road happily, on his way to the park to play. The older boy on the bike thought he could dodge round Harry, but he'd been wrong. _

_The collision was bone-shattering and left Harry screaming. His glasses were gone and he couldn't see properly, even with them he doubted he'd be any better off. Everything hurt, his arms, legs, head, everything! The blood smeared on the tarmac before him frightened him to no end, convinced him he was going to die._

_It didn't take long for someone to dash to the nearest house and call an ambulance, it took a mere half an hour for him to be drugged into oblivion in Accident and Emergency, carted off to be x-rayed and later rushed into surgery. _

_Not that he remembered a great deal of the proceedings up until he woke up after the third operation, __still high on morphine. Once he was allowed to stagger to the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and was thoroughly shocked, so much so that he vomited. Though, the nurses reckon it might've been the drugs or something else, but he was pretty sure he'd been so freaked out by all the stitches, bandages and bruises that he forcibly rejected the contents of his stomach. _

_Even as he began to heal, he encountered setback after setback, while no one in his home bore him any kind of ill will, he found that Dudley often knocked him over, or caught a crutch on the way past, it wasn't his fault, he tried to be careful, but careful, a chubby nine year old and narrow hallways didn't always coexist. _

_School became depressing as well, he wasn't allowed to do games anymore, and he was often told that he couldn't even go outside for play-time, which upset him more, in some respects than being in and out of hospital all the time. Infection and growth spurts affected the healing, until the doctors were certain it wouldn't ever be right again. Everything else was fine, apart from a few scars, but his leg wasn't the same, even after the rest of it got better, he wasn't allowed to do PE. Sometimes he couldn't help but cry at his predicament, he was a sporty kid, loved running around in games, loved playing tap with his friends, loved rounders and football, and everything about being outside. Eventually some of his friends asked if they could stay inside with him at break, but they were told no, in case it got too rowdy. _

_Unsurprisingly, Harry's mood spiralled downwards so rapidly that it was difficult for him to want to do well, as he had before. __The other's parents already looked at him weirdly and pulled their kids away because of the __other__ thing that was supposedly wrong with him, but he couldn't help the way he was. No one in school actually cared, but their parents did, and that hurt. He dreaded secondary school, being forced to go to a new school with lots of new people made him want to cry, he was sure they'd think he was weird and different and they wouldn't play with him, or talk to him or include him. _

_When he'd got his letter from Hogwarts he'd been so surprised that he'd nearly fallen off his chair, and he wanted to sob again, because no doubt that would be something else he wouldn't be allowed to do because of his injury. But he was! Aunt Petunia said the school matron could probably deal with anything that happened in the year, and told him that it was his choice whether he asked the matron to heal his leg completely. _

_By the time he got to the school, and had been pulled aside -having already been laughed at- and asked if he wanted to see the matron, he said no. Sure it was a pain, but if he got it fixed he'd be weak right? He wanted to be strong and overcome it on his own. They'd all stared as he'd limped his way up to the stool, arms and legs wobbling like nobody's business, but they cheered for him when he was Sorted into Gryffindor and for the first time in ages he felt proud of himself. One of the older students helped him to sit on the bench, and though he knew they were surprised, their saviour or whatever he was had what was likely a lifelong affliction, but they greeted him warmly whilst no doubt trying to swallow their disappointment._

* * *

Harry awoke with a start, he had no recollection of falling asleep, and yet he most definitely had done, since Snape was quietly talking to Link, who was wearing slightly more clothing than the last time Harry had seen him. He was almost saddened.

"Can you make it back?" Snape asked, not giving any indication that he was in any form annoyed about being slept on.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, I'm sure your manfriend is itching to get his hands on you again," he replied with a laugh.

"Absolutely," Link muttered salaciously.

"Believe it or not, but Link will be able to manage for another ten minutes while I make sure you get back to your room safely," Snape clearly wasn't too pleased with the jibe at his sex life.

Once more, Link nodded and left, leaving Snape to escort Harry back upstairs.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, he was exceptionally glad he was in his own bed instead of on Snape's sofa, because he would've been highly embarrassed bythe state he was in that was for sure, and it would've been severely aggravated by the arrival of a very naked and gorgeous Link. Well, Harry hoped he would've been naked.

It felt a little wrong to him as he pulled his boxers out the drawer that morning, and it only took a few moments of consideration to work out why. Quickly, he pulled the school skirt up his legs, zipping it up so it hung snugly on his hips. The black socks he donned next, followed by the blouse, and the tie. He didn't have an awful lot of time, but he'd rather miss breakfast than not wear the make-up, that would be blasphemous he thought. It was just one of those days.

The wig he wore that day was a very nice one, one that he'd only purchased a few weeks ago before the beginning of term, and it was the first time he wanted to wear it, entranced by the shocking red ringlets and uneven fringe. It encompassed to him, everything he was feeling that day. Finally, with his white Martens on, and his crutches in hand, he left the safety of his room. It was always a little bit daunting the first time every year that he felt like Alice, he was still a little bit scared that they'd all start laughing at him.

Sometimes the first years did, but more often than not an older student would send them a withering look and they'd stop. But they wouldn't cease staring, because that was impossible.

"Hey Alice," a group of Ravenclaws greeted as he made his way down the stairs. "Nice wig, it really suits you."

"I'm sure you've got a better taste for hairstyles than half of the girls here," one of them muttered, but Alice could tell it wasn't at all serious.

He felt as if it was probably just for the best for him to go straight to Transfiguration instead of going down and then back up, he could save his leg the trouble. Professor McGonagall offered him a small smile as she held the door open for him.

It wasn't long before the class began to fill up, and Draco took his customary seat beside Alice, with Hermione on the table beside them with Ron. Alice couldn't work out why the boy beside him was flushed red, and it was a deep, fairly obvious blush at that. Alice didn't want to pry, just in case something had happened that he wasn't aware of. If Alice were being entirely truthful, he would say Draco looked a little guilty, maybe he'd said something unpleasant to a first year again, it wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence after all. It was also possible that Draco had accidentally whacked someone in the bollocks again. That was bound to be it, as that was a far more embarrassing predicament than making an odd noise at a first year. By this point, nearly everyone in the school was well used to Draco's tics, the first years on the other hand weren't and some were particularly fond of mockery.

It wasn't until near the end of the lesson that anything interesting really happened. Without warning Draco flinched, and his head hit the desk with a rather painful sounding crack.

Stunned silence filled the class, the tics weren't usually that bad, it was uncommon for him to hurt himself, though he did occasionally slap annoyances under the guise of not being able to control his flailing.

"Mr Malfoy, is everything quite alright?" McGonagall asked, deep concern with the barest hint of trying not to laugh riddling her voice.

There was another almighty bang as Draco's head hit the desk for a second time, after which he just glared at the Head of Gryffindor.

"I've just fucking head butted a desk twice, while I'm thankful it wasn't the floor or wall it still fucking hurt. Can I go to the Hospital Wing?"

Alice couldn't help but watch his back as he carefully made his way out of the class, legs trembling slightly, and his arm occasionally twitching.

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**;) oh yes. Please enjoy, though I do want your opinions. **


	2. The Swirl of Sensitivity and Sensation

**Repeated Contact Damage – Chapter 2 – In The Swirl of Sensitivity and Sensation**

**As you may have noticed in the previous chapter, when Harry is presenting female (and when I'm using him as a focaliser), I will continue referring to him using masculine pronouns, if it's the POV of another character. I may use feminine pronouns instead. This is literally so that it's a little easier for me to keep track of. **

**Incidentally, I have a new word-count goal for each chapter, I'm trying to write at minimum 5,000 words per chapter, eep. **

**If you're interested in my writing please check out The Social Riot Machines, and look out for my new (kinda) story, Chaos Isn't Understood, to be uploaded either this Wednesday or next :)**

_**Warning: Heterosexual lemon ahead! **_

There it was again, the disgusting and semi-frightening compulsion, like an unsettling combination of the Imperious and Cruciatus curses, like electricity or lightning or even just a hand pushing down on his neck and shoulders, ordering him to move, to jerk or twitch, he couldn't control it, the more he tried, the stronger the urge. He'd never felt a need so strong as the one he was experiencing now, and he was terrified that he'd humiliate himself by doing something weird, especially since Alice was beside him. It was definitely the most embarrassing thing he could think of, he didn't care about the twitches in front of his house-mates, while they didn't understand, they definitely didn't make a big deal out of it, but Alice was different, she wouldn't laugh, but the concern and the questions about Draco's well-being made him uneasy, it made his heartbeat erratic, and his stomach do back flips. Unpleasant, and also not so at the same time. It didn't take long. He didn't know exactly what his stress levels soaring, well, he supposed he could make an educated guess if he really tried, but he wasn't exactly in the mood for psychoanalysing himself. No, if he was being _entirely _honest, it probably had a great deal to do with Alice's tantalising legs, clad in long black socks.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, keep the thoughts at bay, but it wasn't much use. It was bad enough that he'd been blushing on his way into the classroom, having heard a group of Ravenclaw girls discussing Alice's new wig, one that Draco had in fact already seen for himself. Truth be told, he'd been both anticipating and dreading the day it would be worn, since he was both entranced by the soft ringlets and vivid scarlet, and horrified by the idea of an attraction to one of his best friends. He couldn't help but stare as his companion's legs uncrossed, slightly parted, the skirt dipping-

No surely, he had to drag himself away from his lecherous daydream, or else he'd be discovered, almost definitely. Yep. No two ways about it, they'd know, they'd all know exactly what he was thinking. With that panic induced notion in mind, his anxiety levels had gone through the roof, and the uncomfortable burning-cum-tingling sensation in his shoulders and neck intensified, until he couldn't hold it back any longer. He lurched uncontrollably.

_BANG._

He sat, wide eyed, forehead smarting as he tried to catch up with what had just happened. Honestly, it didn't take long for his face to heat up as the recognition dawned on him. When everything had stopped churning in his brain, he looked up at their Professor, who was watching him with concern. Several seconds of stunned silence blanketed the class before Professor McGonagall seemed to regain her senses.

"Mr Malfoy, are you quite alright?"

No, no, no! Why did she have to bring more attention to what he'd done? He could feel his eyes prickling, the tears threatened to well up from sheer embarrassment, and he wouldn't no, couldn't allow himself to cry, not when they were all watching, waiting for him to do something.

And there it was again, that awful feeling, the need to break the stillness and the calmness that he tried to emanate. He tried to quell it, but once more he could feel the need bubbling up his spine, until he couldn't take it any longer, and just let it happen.

Once more, he pitched forward, or was it downward? Once more, his head smacked into the desk and once more, he could feel the shame constricting his throat and knotting in his stomach.

"I've just fucking head butted a desk twice, while I'm thankful it wasn't the floor or wall it still fucking hurt. Can I go to the Hospital Wing?" He asked, well aware of the fact he was going to get a rather severe telling-off for swearing at a Professor, but at that particular moment in time he couldn't quite bring himself to give even half of a flying fuck, because at that particular moment in time, all he really wanted to do was go and hide under his covers so that no one could find him.

It was very rare for Draco to explicitly break rules, as a Slytherin he was expected to be subtle, but given his subtlety had already failed him spectacularly that day, he didn't exactly care to be told he could leave the lesson, instead he packed up his things and walked out without waiting for a response.

Okay, so he might get a slight lecture for it later from Professor Snape, but he really, really didn't care. He couldn't even keep the motion of his arm at bay as he fled the classroom, hyper aware of the thirty or so of his peers that were watching him, waiting for him to fuck up again.

He didn't even realise as his feet carried him up the stairs instead of down, and it was only when he was stood outside the relatively plain looking door of Alice's private rooms did he come to his senses. Breathily, he muttered her password, and made a beeline for her bedroom. Despondently, Draco flung himself on her bed, slid himself under the covers, pulled them up over his head and sighed, wishing Alice was there to comfort him.

Alice tried not to be unnerved by Draco's antics, he really did, but there was a niggling feeling that something was seriously wrong. He found it incredibly difficult to concentrate on the morning's lessons, occasionally he drifted listlessly in daydreams, worry for Draco gnawing away at his constantly. It wasn't until lunchtime that his mood lifted, and that was only due to the intervention of Hermione. Without any kind of warning, Hermione grabbed Alice's arm, and dragged him into a broom closet.

"Hermione, what-"

"Listen, Alice, this morning I woke up and I knew I _needed _to feel, I don't know, just need..." She trailed off, looking at him pleadingly. "I tried with my... it's just not enough!"

Alice looked at his friend, while she wasn't being terribly clear, it wasn't as if she wasn't making any sense at all. He hoped he was getting the right end of the stick, since he thought the idea sounded like an exceptionally good one.

"You want to have sex...?" He questioned, trying oh so desperately to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

"Yeah... I thought it'd be fine, since I told you about Louise and Mark, and you told me about Nathan, Darren and Siobhan, it's not like I could ask, yeah that's not fair really, something casual for a first..."

Alice nodded, and Hermione sighed, relief evident in her frame.

"Is it really like that sometimes for girls?" He couldn't help but ask, but need to know if what she was describing was actually a legitimate problem.

"Yeah, you just _know _that you've got to have cock, you just need it, you sit down wrong and if feels like you're going to cum, you try and squeeze your legs together, or rub against the seat discreetly, but in the end it's not really enough..."

From her tone, Alice could tell that Hermione wanted the conversation to end, and he took the hint.

Cautiously he stepped forward, closed the distance between them, his hands resting on her hips, relishing the femininity of her figure. A part of him realised that neither of them were blushing virgins, and if they wanted to actually get to anything good they would have to hurry, they probably had in the region of forty-five minutes, and that wasn't a great deal of time. Their lips met as he unbuttoned Hermione's blouse, his fingers teasing the smooth, soft expanse of skin beneath her clothes. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that Hermione's bra was practical and fairly nondescript, pale blue with white stripes. They started as one of his crutches clattered to the floor, the fear of discovery spurring them on momentarily. Hermione's lips were soft and pliant against Alice's and he couldn't help but want more, a lot more of what Hermione was offering. He watched in amazement as Hermione's slender hands reached up and unclipped her bra, and he glimpsed her breasts for the first time.

"You're beautiful," he murmured as he kissed a line down her throat, making his way unabashed to her nipples, he wanted her to moan, and be breathless, all those wonderful things that came from good sex. The hands that threaded in his hair as he took the soft nub of flesh into his mouth was more than likely a good sign, as was mewling whimper she couldn't seem to contain. Alice felt a swell of warmth in his chest as he flicked his tongue over the hardening bud, shudders rippling through Hermione's lithe body as he did, gasped expletives slipping off her tongue in an agonisingly sensual way. It was a very rare thing, Hermione swearing, and now that he had heard it in not quite the throes of passion -but near enough there- he wanted to make sure she reserved it for such moments. Confidently, he trailed his left hand down her stomach, the motion probably tickled, if the fluttering muscle beneath his fingertips was anything to go by, and dragged the back of his hand up her inner thigh. Alice delighted in the ragged breathing he was hearing from above him, the breaths coming quicker as he pushed aside Hermione's panties, also light blue and striped with white- he couldn't resist looking for a moment, wondering if they'd match or not. He didn't do an awful lot, just pressed his finger against her swollen lips as he attached himself to her other nipple, but the reaction was astounding. Almost unconsciously, her hips rolled, and she thrust against his finger, an obvious and unquestionable indicator of what is was exactly that she needed.

Alice couldn't say he was in the mood to give her exactly what she wanted that quickly though, he was a little bit of a tease like that. Slowly, ever so slowly, he circled her clit, She was so wet that Harry didn't doubt her in the slightest when she said she's been aroused pretty much all morning.

"Stop teasing me!" Hermione demanded ardently.

With such a strong command hanging in the air, Alice felt like it would be a crime to deny her any longer.

He straightened up and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, but thought better of it. Hurriedly, he pushed his own skirt and undergarments down, exposing his engorged cock to the cold air of the broom closet. Hermione's thin fingers wrapped around his length, and stroked with just the right amount of pressure to drive him insane. He grasped her wrist, halting her, otherwise the actual sex part of their encounter was going to be fairly short and uninspiring. With a small, coquettish smile, Hermione turned away from him and braced her hands on the door. Alice paused for a moment to take in the sight before him, her long legs and gorgeous ass, he couldn't help but lick his lip and step forward, his cock pressing against the taut fabric of her panties.

"Ready?" He asked rhetorically, he knew that if she wasn't, she wouldn't be offering herself -well, he liked to think it anyway, it'd be stupid of her otherwise.

The small nod of confirmation calmed his nerves regardless. He pulled her arousal moistened panties aside, took a hold of his cock and rested it at her entrance, waiting several seconds. It had been a fantasy of his for many months, to have sex with a girl while she was still pretty much entirely clothed, he thought the idea was extremely pleasing, and made the act feel ten times more illicit than it had any right to be, and their chosen location was only adding to the feeling of the forbidden. It was with a gleeful feeling that he pushed himself inside Hermione's tight pussy.

"Oh fuck!" Hermione groaned. He wasn't exactly gentle, but he knew she had a preference for sex a little on the wilder side, from their gossip sessions about their ex's.

Alice struggled to keep a good rhythm, sex whilst standing wasn't the easiest for him, but it was inevitably easier than kneeling, heaven forbid, Hermione's breasts were cupped in his hands, her nipples trapped between his fingers. He could hear her trying to restrain whatever noises she was trying to make, and it wasn't exactly a bad idea, since they were on the fourth floor, in a closet which was passed by both library and infirmary goers. She was quite successful, actually, until he started going a bit harder. It was then that she ceased being able to restrain the pleasured sounds than tumbled _almost _unabashed from her lips. Almost.

The slight movement of the door was the only hint they got that someone was trying to force their way inside. Alice had two options really, lean harder against it and prevent them from getting in, or risk the potential wrath of a teacher. The answer was pretty much taken out of their hands, as the door was shouldered again, and rather than risk injury, Alice chose to step away from it, dragging Hermione back with him as he did. In the milliseconds between them moving away from the door, and it being pushed open, he managed to wrap Hermione's blouse around her, not that they were going to be able to kid whoever it was, but he at least wanted her dignity to remain somewhat intact, at the very least around fifty percent undamaged.

"Potter... and Granger!" Parkinson laughed as she took in the scene before her.

"Want to join us? No? Well shut your fucking gob, shut the fucking door and go the fuck away!" Alice growled.

Parkinson hesitated for several seconds, and it was only when Alice reached out to drag her into the closet did she slam the door shut and scurry away.

"You okay?" He asked Hermione, somewhat concerned.

A nod was all he received.

"Want to continue?"

Another nod.

Cautiously, he resumed thrusting, waiting until the girl in his arms relaxed before he resumed the pace they were going at before they had been so rudely interrupted. He knew he'd twisted his knee in the skirmish to get away from the door, and oh boy he knew it was going to be a bitch later that day, and the rumours would no doubt be horrible, but he could forget about all of that momentarily, as he pounded into Hermione's tight and eager pussy. It wasn't long before she was reaching down, fingering her own clit desperately as she chased her impending orgasm. His much larger, rougher finger joined hers, and shortly after she was gasping, shuddering, her legs clamped together and her silken soft walls squeezing down on his cock, his own orgasm following hers quickly.

Though Alice wished they could stay a little longer and catch their breath, it wasn't really an option, classes were to begin in such a short amount of time that they had no choice but to redress quickly.

He frowned as he noticed Hermione's grimace. She smiled at him, and hastened to explain.

"Just a bit unpleasant afterwards to be honest, I'd imagine when a guy cums in your arse, it just kinda stays there right, unless you physically err push it out?" She enquired.

Alice nodded.

"With a girl, well a vagina in particular, it just kinda drips back out. Thanks Alice... I really appreciate it!"

Draco had found it disconcertingly easy to fall asleep enveloped in Alice's warm duvet and surrounded by her unique sent, a blend of the masculine and feminine deodorants that was uniquely her. He was roused by the sound of a door slamming, and by Alice cursing and shouting at no one in particular.

"Why does it matter to them who I have sex with?" She screamed, obviously enraged at something.

Hesitantly, Draco stepped out of her bedroom, a little wary of her anger.

"What's wrong?"

Alice whipped around, her skirt flailing around her thighs as she did. It wasn't as if Draco was watching, hoping to get a glimpse of what was beneath.

"Nothing really, no, well, Hermione and I got caught... in a broom cupboard," she explained sheepishly. "Now all I'm getting is 'oh why _Hermione_?' as if, because I'm fucking genderqueer, I'm not allowed to have normal teenage boy desires, and that I have to be an obedient little cock slut or something!" She seethed. "My knee hurts," Alice finally admitted, her voice soft, on the verge of despairing.

She seemed so vulnerable that Draco felt compelled to put his arm around her, and massaged her shoulders soothingly.

Earlier that day, he had been given some painkilling potion of some kind by Professor Snape, well, before breakfast that was, as Draco would see Alice before Snape would've done. A smirk formed on his lips as he led Alice to the sofa. His heartbeat raced as he placed her legs across his lap, and removed her sock, exposing her pale calf, criss-crossed with numerous silvery scars. Gently, he massaged the potion into her skin, and when he looked up, he was taken aback. Alice was fast asleep. The brazen display of trust made Draco's heart swell.

Once he was finished, he carefully laid down beside her, his arm splayed over her stomach protectively. When they were alone, he often felt relaxed enough that his tics weren't as bad, when he did experience them, they were usually minor ones, ones that wouldn't disturb anyone, unlike the two he had experienced in Transfiguration. He considered what Alice had informed him, and wondered why even he himself was a little surprised that Alice liked girls. Why was it such a shocking thought? It was probably as Alice herself surmised, that people just assumed she would prefer men, because of her gender orientation. It lead him down the rather uncomfortable path of considering his own sexuality, he always found it hard not to stare when Alice was, well Alice, but when she was presenting male, he didn't know, didn't really know if he found it attractive. He sighed, it was definitely something he would have to consider in depth at some point. A little part of him wondered if he would've found Alice attractive if they weren't friends. He thought it was likely he would've been disgusted if they hadn't become friends early in First Year. It would've been too much for his relatively sheltered upbringing to deal with, and he probably would've insulted her at every turn. His insides twisted painfully as he admitted it to himself. Draco couldn't help but consider the events that set their friendship in motion, and for a very brief few seconds considered what had made him take her hand when she had needed it.

_Harry stood lining up for Transfiguration, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, a careless Gryffindor shoved another. The boy crashed into Harry, sending him to the floor. Unbidden tears streaked down his cheeks, his knee already beginning to swell and stiffen. Burning embarrassment coloured his round features as the Slytherins began to snicker. Harry whimpered, ashamed, and struggled to his feet. He fled, not wishing to be seen. Harry fled to the nearest bathroom, and locked himself in a stall. He wobbled, he hadn't realised the floor was wet, his crutches slipped from beneath him. Disgust and pain were the only two emotions Harry registered, he was laying on a wet bathroom floor, his crutches beyond his reach and no way of getting back up. He sincerely hoped that his knee hadn't been damaged further, he would hate to have another operation. _

"_Potter?" Came the voice of Draco Malfoy. A small squeak of surprise came from the little Gryffindor. "McGonagall sent me to get you, she's dealing with your house mates -the ones that didn't do the homework."_

_Harry felt annoyed, and scared that this horrible boy was the one his head of house had sent after him. The Gryffindor tried to regain his composure, but found that was quite difficult when he was lying quite pathetically on the floor, he was surprised Malfoy hadn't noticed him yet. _

"_Malfoy... I... please help me," Harry requested, his voice trembling. Shocked, the blonde crouched by the locked stall door. He squeezed Harry's outstretched hand reassuringly. _

"_I'll climb over okay, try not to move too much," he instructed. Harry nodded, the surprisingly comforting touch had made him feel much better. Draco hurried into the next cubicle and clambered onto the cistern block. With some difficulty, he hoisted himself over the cubicle wall and dropped down next to Harry. Carefully, the blonde helped Harry up, trying hard not to hurt the tiny Gryffindor. Together they made their way out of the bathroom, after picking up the almost forgotten crutches._

**Ne? Gosh, I was going to write Harry/Alice using female pronouns from her perspective, but then it came to the sex and I found it really difficult to keep a straight face. I think for the sake of not giggling in the early hours and waking my family, I'm going to stick with male pronouns whilst in her POV. **

**Enjoy, reviews are always very welcome :D**


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